Rumor Has It
by WithAnAngel
Summary: AU. Sequel to Lovesick. Jazz Pamela Fenton is unhappy. She's a nobody to her classmates, invisible to her busy family, and lonely without friends. However, she does have a special skill: She's an incredible artist. In the midst of a summer BBQ, Jazz is kidnapped for that skill. As her broken family fight to get her back, nothing will ever be the same again.


**Author's Note:** I haven't written anything like this in such a long time. I'm not sure if this is going to work, but I'm playing around with an idea I have for a sequel to _Lovesick_. The idea is pretty solid, but I haven't yet figured out how to incorporate Danny and Sam, since this story will mostly be about their kids, Jazz and Paulina Fenton. At any rate, it's sorta drabble at this point, but if you like the first few chapters, let me know and I'll extend the story into the idea I have.

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Chapter 1

Jazz Pamela Fenton was not the brains of the operation. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't solve the calculus problem set before her. She was 17 and graduating high school in a few weeks, yet the teachers still expected her to rack her mind and figure out how to properly use substitution to solve the anti-derivative problem. As if she didn't have enough problems of her own.

Her eyes wandered for a moment, resting on the back of the head of Toby Halter. She gazed at him for a moment, taking in the soft, tousled light-brown hair that curled slightly just above his shoulders. Toby was popular, nice, and friendly. He never let anyone feel left out, which was probably why he had so many friends to begin with. She had had a crush on him since their Freshman year together and he was perfect. Which of course meant he didn't know she was alive.

She sighed softly and moved her eyes a few inches to the right to her sister Paulina. Paulina had her head down, her pencil scratching away as she thoughtfully and precisely answered the question. Paulina was the smart one of the family, able to neatly solve any problem one could throw at her. She was fun, pretty, logical and had plenty of friends. She wasn't like Jazz—quiet, shy and the definition of hopeless.

Well, maybe not entirely hopeless. Jazz looked down at her paper again. The numbers seemed garbled and quite frankly, unimportant. What did it matter? She was graduating with a solid _B_ in the class as it was. She turned the paper over and started to draw.

At least she was good at this. If she was proud of anything, it was her skill in drawing. Jazz loved drawing and was by far the best artist in their grade. She thought maybe she wanted to be an art major next year when she started school at the local community college. If she really tried, she was sure she could get a scholarship and get into a better school, a nice university of some kind. That'd be nice.

The bell rang just then, and Jazz stuffed her homework in her bag, blushing lightly as she realized she had sketched an outline of Toby. She fell into step beside Paulina and Jared, her sister's boyfriend. Only one more class to go.

Suddenly, a shrill, abrasive shrieking pierced the air. White lights blinded her and she was momentarily visionless. The penetrating wail cried out louder, the acoustics in the hallway amplifying the noise.

"Oh god," Jazz whispered. A fire drill. Knowing the alarm meant crowding around the courtyard and missing at least half an hour of their next class, her classmates bustled with sudden energy, rushing towards the nearest designated exit route—a staircase that led outside. A thick elbow flew past her, hitting her cheek. Someone tripped and stumbled for a moment, grabbing on to her for support before rushing past her. Just as she reached the top of the staircase, someone shoved her roughly and she nearly toppled over, gripping the railing for support. Who as she kidding? It didn't matter that she was a fantastic artist, in the eyes of her classmates she was invisible. A nobody. She was a few steps from the bottom when she tripped and fell forward.

Jazz's arms flailed, missing the railing. She stiffened her body, bracing herself for the concrete impact. This was going to hurt.


End file.
